Betrayal. Deception.
Eyes open, why can I not see?
Implosion. Explosion.
I am. I am what?
Distracted. Delusional.
Heart racing.
Thoughts blurred, moving fast.
The thing that knew love and devotion.
Attraction. Desire.
It is the deception of it all.
I don’t know if I am wrong.
I don’t know the truth.
Truth. Ha!
Like a tornado ripping through my soul.
It has no warning. No alarm bell.
Only a ravaging of my soul that feels the blow of broken blind trust.
Shame . Guilt . Unworthiness.
Each a film of darkness blinding me to truth.
I am not her.
Nor do my desires long to be.
The girl from long ago.
I am not she.
This thing,
This nameless lie that speaks vivid truth.
About the Creator
Jessica Harrison
Sometimes the road travelled was not preferred. The destination, however, has always been worth the trip.
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The First Word
I have considered myself a writer since I was a teen and could string together words that sounded deep. I have talked about writing a book most of my adult life. I have come up with interesting titles. I have thought about the content. I have sat in front of my computer for hours staring at it hoping that the words will form. I am a fraud. I am not a writer. I have no degree in literature or journalism. I have never written a single word that a career as a freelance writer could be built upon.
By Jessica Harrison4 years ago in Psyche
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